Au’s experimental pop brings fun to Atlanta

February 2, 2009, at the Earl

By Beverly Bryan
Published: February 5th, 2009 | 4:05pm

Luke Wyland, clean-cut, nice-looking and fair, started out alone on stage at his keyboard and electronics console. He would be half of Au this night at the Earl. He introduced himself with a solo composition that was a kind of abstract-expressionist pop — Tin Pan Alley, but scrambled at the molecular level. Fans of Ariel Pink and Dirty Projectors, take note.

Next, Dana Valatka, with metal-looking long hair, a righteous mustache, and a muscle shirt, sat down at the drum kit to Wyland’s right. I should say drum console. Valatka was set up with tambourine and cymbal attachments, steel bells, xylophone, and anything else for which a percussionist could yearn. Whipping out an egg shaker, it was clear he was down for this experimental-pop adventure.

Together, they were fairly unstoppable. They were freewheeling and listenable, yet virtually hook-free, glissandos of noise still erupted without warning from the chamber-pop chatter. The duo was much more fun than the usual run of avant-pop geeks, in part because there was no point at which Wyland and Valatka expected the crowd to achieve some hypnotic state, or zone out, or go get a beer. They were playing music every second and they were blatantly stoked about it. At a few climactic moments, they broke out yelling at each other like excited cowboys.

The stage patter had the same odd exuberance. “Does anyone here speak French? The next one’s called ‘Boutee,’” Wyland asked. Then he spelled it. A voice in the crowd said, “That’s dirty!” With a sort of beatific warmth, Wyland retorted, “It is a little dirty. I guess that’s the point.” [This reporter does not speak French.]

Then they went on the attack with a vehement, deconstructed blues, during which Wyland wrested an outraged melody from the lap steel tucked behind his keyboard. Wyland: wicked falsetto. Valatka: killer drum solos.

Whenever Wyland addressed himself to the organ, Au took on the sound of Mates of State, but pushed the envelope in ways I don’t think Mates of State would even consider. For even further comparison, it was every bit as whacked out as a Liars show but, again, way more fun and less oppressively dense. When Wyland asked if the band should play one or two more songs, one of the many dedicated supporters of fun instead suggested that they play 20.

Review of Au's Verbs